Heir to Sakurazukamori
by Yuri the Eighth Demoness
Summary: One-shot: How would you fight a demon unlike any other especially if he already has your beloved in his hands? {A tribute fanfic to Yuri the SEVENTH's Heir Apparent. A short-story set after Weiss meets Tokyo Babylon.}{Gift fic to [edit] Shion.}


_Some explanations: _

_1.)This is __**NOT Mila's gift fanfic**__, rather, another that I had gifted to a certain persistent Mr. Shion who's been bombarding my messages and pestering me much to write him this story. So yeah, here it is. ^_^_

_2.)The reason why I am actually sharing this here, is that I likewise want it to be a tribute to my predecessor who wrote the best __**crossover**__ I've ever read in my lifetime, thus we can actually say it's a __**fanfiction of a **__**fanfiction **__since I did borrow part of what the Seventh, my predecessor, wrote in her Heir Apparent Story, turned it, and decided it would make a grand episode if the events there happened again during the Shizaya timeline. Or it's more of an Izuo. But you get the picture._

_3.) Since the start of Drrr!, I've always thought these characters to have a lot in common with Tokyo Babylon, but in a weird way. Sei-chan, the most powerful assassin, worked in Shinjuku, and he and Subaru met at the station in Ikebukuro. Sounds familiar?_

_Anyway, this is not one of my more inspired works (as you know me, I could do better), but I hope everyone gets even a bit of happiness with it. Thank you to everyone who have been checking up on me lately. I have been ill, to say, but I promise, once things become better, I'l find time to update Cinco Storia again._

_YuE, Yuri the Eighth_

* * *

_Warnings: This fic alternates in narration in more instances than one. Sorry. I still had a fever while I was writing this. ^_^ I still actually do._

* * *

"Who…who are you?"

The way you look right now reminds me of a beast having been threatened and cornered, and you don't like the feeling do you? The feeling of being so utterly helpless and confused and unable to determine the situation, unable to formulate the necessary plans to take advantage.

You don't like it. That makes me smile. No, it's laughable Mr. Information Broker, and we both are aware. I know because unlike you I can read your thoughts like an open book, can reach into the very recesses of your mind to the very core of your dreams, your wants, your most hidden of nightmares. But unlike you, this is my natural power, not some made up fantasy conjured by sheer intellect, which can be faked and forced into being.

I am _He_.

"My name is Seishirou Sakurazukamori, and I have come to _claim_ Heiwajima Shizuo."

I bring forth my price and stand him before us, your epic prince in my choice of robes befitting an heir to the mythical assassin's name. Does he not look beautiful? More appealing with his hair in its original shade, more gullible…more vulnerable, the trace of a broken lord.

Here, let me show you his face, and allow me to show you his stunning eyes that now hold no recognition of you or of anyone…

_He_ is mine.

You grit your teeth. You swallow hard and sweat to watch me kiss him and he resists it not, my touch, even as I run my palm down over. Angry aren't we? No. You hate me rather terribly. That expression, no matter how cool you play it, I can see through. It crumbles into pieces before both my seeing and unseeing eyes.

Realisation hits you like a bitter, arctic caress, the cold you feel to your very bones, a haunting feeling you cannot place. I can see you shiver visibly. I can see you tremble, seeing your world shatter to bits and shards before you.

Ah, this you are aware of too, yes? How exactly does it feel? For your beloved to not pay attention to you for once, ignoring you as if you had not existed?

I enjoyed playing this game, enjoyed toying with the one who toyed with everyone else. I loved watching you struggle to come into terms with the facts this last week, try to remedy them, startled.

_'Him? I don't know. I don't even remember,'_ your beloved had said, even as you attempted to con him into another chase, tempting him with the idea while he was at my side.

What a rude way to attempt a confrontation. Whose fault was it that he did not know in the first place? Who was it who failed to define the lines and boundaries? For you to not have admitted your attraction and attachment, your obsession and bewilderment. And when he walked away, turned his back on you, you were hammered by a sense of loss unlike any you have felt.

It was your shortcoming. And it was a shortcoming I gladly overtook, making for your dearest a better partner, not that you both had been a couple to begin with. You were merely playing tag with chance, at least, that was what you intended. The cat and the mouse. Well it's very much game over now, Mr. Information Broker.

"Don't…" your lips tremble, overhanging raven hair like pitch in this darkness covering the loathing in your red-brown eyes.

_Don't_ what?

_Touch_ him? Is that it?

"Why, isn't it a bit too late for that now?" I croon back as if I were a lover to you.

As I show you the details of my conquest last night, you cringe, you spite…your fingers clench and dig into the palms of your hands. You bleed. Do you not like the mental images I am playing in your head right now?

Yes. I held him last night, this fierce creature in my arms. I held him. He screamed and cried out stunningly, begged as I teased all the corners of his flesh, his quivering body, pleasure and pain intermingling, wracking his entire form with sensations that drowned him, made him drool…for me.

He was a virgin. And I made him vow his love to me by giving it up, seduced him into a physical union where I marked him with my star, the star of Sakurazukamori, an eternal crest he will bear as proof that his soul, as his entire being, is now under my leash.

And I made love to him as fiercely, not letting go until he had well passed out in the process, exhausted, satiated. I asked him again when he awoke.

_'Do you know anyone named Orihara Izaya?'_

He looked at me, puzzled.

_'No. I don't know anyone of that name, Sei-chan. Why have you been asking me something that ridiculous?'_ He smiled, but hurt as I seemed to doubt him like so. _'I love only one, and that's you.'_

What's this? Is that a tear I see sliding down the side of your face? Ah, aren't you likewise a_ lovely fiend_? I will not tell you this, but if I had not succeeded with your Shizu-chan, I would have gotten to you next. Because a soul as dark as my own, as capable of evil as my own, is a beauty worth a Sakurazukamori's pardon, worth my eternal damnation.

But then you are just as better as _this_, as my prey _and_ plaything, my judgements proven to be precise in their estimations. It was fun breaking your resolve, shattering your constancy by stealing the one thing you treasure the most but ignored the feeling for…until…until…

Allow me to laugh once more upon your pettiness. Forgive me, but I find you rather pathetic, the way you still can't believe that this one in my grasp no longer remembered you.

Denial.

But then you had not admitted anything, stuttering to the thought, have tried to confess countless of times but all ending in the wrong way.

"So…" I croon again and you shudder, feeling the sheer thrill in my voice. Don't you like it anymore? Our little game? Had you not betted with your life you will _win_?

"So…how does it feel, Iza-chan, to be _overthrown_?"

Your eyes snap up. There. That's a lovely expression. Hurt and hate. I adore them. And with this fuel to your ravenous fire, you come at me in a rush of frustration, unable to control the delve of anger, or wanting to get some solace in vengeance, but seeing your eyes twitch, as you think of attempting to take what _was yours_ back.

But I see you. What you are in greed, in your frustrations. Of course I know about these as well, even deeper than you'd ever seen yourself. How many years do you think have I existed? Have fed souls and blood into _that_ Sakura? I am well beyond you, above you…I _exceed_ you.

I am the one who is far above your cunning degree. I am the Man Who Knows It All, the one you can only hope to be. And so unlike you, I am literally and figuratively cold of blood, a haunt, a hunter, the sum of your fears and more…MORE!

Blades.

You make me laugh.

What use are they to a Dragon of Earth, to the most dangerous assassin who's seen Shinjuku since its primordial state until its growth into the full nonsensical bloom it is today? How long have I lived here? How long have I watched? And how long have I known _who you are_ and _what you are_ capable of?

I catch you off guard, when I all but nullify your attempts with a wave of my hand. See? I don't even need to summon a _shikigami_. But the fiery chasms and the slicing winds I had sent your way you had parried easy, a feline that reminded me of another heir of mine that I'd abandoned. He is no longer here. _Kudou Yohji-kun._ He had such potential. Too bad he had been saved and had since left me.

More blades. Their edge gleaming like the silver of the moonlight as you hurl one after another and more others at me. A breathtaking rain. But let me show you how I can dance through this spectacle as you could, ancient I may be but never once losing my capabilities.

Again, Mr. Information Broker, and more spells fly your way, a surprise that you had not tried to flee even as the world around you singed and froze, staying your ground. Ah, but of course. You just_ can't leave_ your dearest to me can you? You have been careful not to touch where he is at all.

And instinctively you lock up your mind like a dying flower, yes, _smart_, figuring how you must close your thoughts so I could not read them even for the few short minutes you'll need.

"Try _this_!"

Then there was explosion. The ground surrounding me collapsing into hellish light as I stepped upon a trap. _Your_ doing, I am aware. You had rigged the area before you invited me. But of course I knew of this as well.

But do you not see how impervious I am to such attacks, even if you threw the world upon me, _crashed_ it on me, I will rise, I will become what I am. The thirteenth star. But then what's _this_? Ah, I had miscalculated perhaps by a bit. Those triggered explosions were a distraction to get me away, your_ real aim_ to get to his side, to _your_ stunning monster.

You had managed. Very good. And I see you bristle but pursue, grabbing the other by his arms to shake him out of my spell. But no. _Wrong move_ Mr. Information Broker. You should have kept in mind how setting a trap…is a business that's_ 'do unto others'._

You've dirtied my jacket, and this is my favourite coat. But I see now how you get the point as I still appear beyond the dust and burning, the detritus, walking towards you, unscathed when you could have already killed a lesser man. But I am _no_ man. Though like you, I've _rigged_ my territory before I came, and it's convenient how that said territory can actually fulfil the duty this easily, likewise acting as its effective _lure_.

I can see surprise in your eyes as your beloved reached his hand and clasped it tightly around your neck, cutting off your words and the air that you so badly need. This is amusing. My heir who is yet to kill anyone in truth will make a first kill out of you.

That's it, struggle. Struggle as you see these final images I am to share with you. Call his name all you want, but he will no longer respond. He is dead to you. His emotions are dead to himself. I had made sure of them that day…

A week ago in Ikebukuro. I lied. Our first time had not been as sweet as I'd earlier shown you. That was a warped memory. A foolish notion. But this is the truth, watch…

I had captured the so-called monster in his den but we had fought, marvellously rather, because he had returned all that I have to give in terms of physical strength. But then he gave. How so? Simple. I threatened _you_.

Imagine how obedient he had become. What I could not achieve even by showing him my true powers, even after threatening his own life, I achieved after I said that if he died or had not handed himself to me _willingly_, I shall kill you next? Or rather he feared what I planned to _do to you_ before that, the image of you being abused until you broke like glass in my grip too much for his simple understanding.

Now you see. He cared for you though he was loathe to admit it. He was afraid for you. So he stood between us so that you may live. He took me on until he himself became a puppet in my grip.

It was a sacrifice, yes? And I had so wonderfully raped him after he offered his body to my whims, while he was tied and bound with the spells that rendered him all the more helpless.

But he did not succumb, no, he persisted. He thought it will all just be an unwitting nightmare that once he awakened, will be over, and he held onto that with conviction. Nor did he shed a tear even as I pillaged and harried him over and over, more stronger in will than I had imagined.

Worse, he found his shelter in his memories of you. He loved you, his mind concentrating on the blur of your smiles, your eyes, the bits and pieces of tenderness you show him at times. Yes, he loved you. Ironic that he did not know that you loved him too.

"Such drama. It sickens me."

The thought disgusts me.

I suddenly find myself tired of these games Mr. Information Broker. I tire when love is so real it reaches through, because at this battle I always…lose. It reminds me of Hokuto-chan, the idiot. And see this right eye? How it is all gone? I had made a terrible mistake once in my life and _this_ was what I paid it with.

"Kill him."

At least I get to enjoy toppling you both over, to see your blood stain these devastated grounds, hear the medley of carnage as your own_ Shizu-chan_ runs his hand through your chest in the one way Sakurazukamoris do it. Then perhaps I can break him anew, remove the spell I have bestowed upon him so he may watch you pine away, rape him while we both bathe in the pool of your cold blood, see him go insane with the thought that he had indeed killed you as he often threatened to, before I cast him into the flames to rot, to _die_.

I will get the last laugh. I will tear you both into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. That's it, choke. That's it, suffer. To death with you, with the image of how your beloved will suffer in the same way. I think he now understands it too; see the tears he is shedding for you? He has broken through the haze of my hold but it is already too late. He will do as I have ordered.

It shall be his turn _next_. He will follow after you and your demise. I will orchestrate it so lovingly. But you will have already perished. And you will not be able to console him from where you are beyond the grave…

_…beyond the grave…_

"Seishirou! Stop this madness!"

* * *

He turned to face the current fourteenth Sakurazukamori, Subaru Sumeragi, whom the trailing Celty had summoned with Shinra's help, using the most archaic of ways. He was still as beautiful an Onmyoji as the other had imagined, his eyes however changed into its current difference of shades, looking at him with its own pains and power: one being his own, the other, that of the man he loved, the man whose wraith now stood before them, no more than a ghost of the past come to haunt him.

"Why Subaru-"

"Seishirou, stop this madness…" the other commanded again, knowing that the only way to halt this distress was to exert his own power over it, to cast his own spells, to curse or damn him with his words. "Return to your respite and awaken no more…"

The man smiled at him. "But I thought you wanted to see me again, beloved?" asked the ghost. After which he moved closer, as if to enfold the younger one, a remnant of past emotions, but Subaru stopped it, would have raised a barrier if the latter persisted with the gesture.

This was enough. This need not continue where innocent lives would once again be played.

Seishirou looked at him for some time, before he gave up, but not without a sigh of disappointment. "I really thought you wanted to see me."

"Not this way," Subaru answered which was the only truth, as he had already long accepted Seishirou to be gone.

But for some reason, he knew this to be incorrect, to the bottom of his being acknowledging this to be fallacy, the evidence of his need still making for him this presence, the man coming to life once in several years as a result of his pent-up desires…

It appeared as if the Onmyoji wanted to cry but stopped, some manner of steely resolve creeping to conceal any further emotion where it usually overflowed. He looked at Seishirou. Then looked at the two behind him.

With a wave of his will, he broke the binds enveloping Heiwajima Shizuo, in the process releasing Orihara Izaya, the brown-haired one awaking to see how he had almost, almost killed the person he valued. Oddly enough, the man named Sakurazukamori just let him be, waiting, waiting for the real object of his affections to do as he willed…_with him_.

With a sigh, he reached for his pocket and lighted a cigarette, turning his eye towards the curious character he knew was named Celty, just pulled up around the curb with her own significant _other_.

Aren't they same? _She_ and the assassin? They are both ghosts here for a purpose. But then they are _not _the _same_. The man always maintained that there was none at par with him and his _calling_, even as he returned to it a wraith…

He let them be. They dared not move though, waiting, trusting _his_ Subaru-kun as they see him already standing there. Well played. The Onmyoji was the only thing that stood between them and this smiling catastrophe who was Seishirou Sakurazukamori, come to wrap his arms around his true _prince_, and this time, Subaru let him. Though he had not met his gaze. He was watching the other two…

Shizuo broke down, cradling the limp head of this misguided informant, "Iza…" the tears breaking anew even before there was a chance to say anything, gently, so gently, sobbing into the other's shoulders as he saw where his hand had left its mark around that neck.

How easily could it have happened. How quickly could he have done it. And to think he had attempted to thrust his powerful hand through Izaya's chest where his heart was beating, it would have been a total devastation. Thus, he continued to cry, a seeming penance, a call for forgiveness for having allowed himself to go this far, for getting himself caught in the web of the stranger who had visited him_ that one night_.

The informant stirred, coughed, realising where he was as he stared blindly up the sky, mind not as slow though his body hurt in various places. His throat felt raw, dry. He lacked focus, fought for consciousness, but was keen to catch the snippet of the one now holding him so dearly, Shizuo burying his face somewhere he could not see, but feeling the wet warmth of the tears pouring forth, the gentle sobs of regret that made this monster's usually powerful form tremble like a leaf.

Despite a near-brush with death and nearly dying in his hands, Izaya reached a weak hand to thread loosely through those tresses, finding the shade to be even more beautiful as it was bathe by the unusual light around them.

It was all right. They were both alive and it was all right. He wanted to assure this idiot, but then he knew for now that he would not be able to bring himself to scold him, albeit lovingly, with those words.

Then again, who wanted to argue? He was too weak even to laugh at himself. He felt fainter. Plus he had not been this close to the other for a while now. He had missed it. Like he had missed every other chance he got to tell him exactly what he now admitted to be feeling. He had wanted him quite much…enough that it ached more from within his chest than anywhere else…

"I…love…" was all he could whisper, very lowly, a tear somehow escaping, before the relief of oblivion swept over him and he collapsed, the darkness that came rushing in punctuated only by the sound of his beloved's crying…

* * *

"I am Subaru Sumeragi," I tell you, and you look at me as if you couldn't believe my words.

Who would? The clan by which I belonged, once a spiritual foundation in its own right, had already been erased from history, now the stuff of books and legends, of a hundred stories and countless myths. Even Seishirou was, to most at present, a figment of imagination, the Sakurazukamori a mysterious fad that had left no trace when it had all but disappeared.

But_ I am real_, I assure you, and so was the ordeal you had faced, the man sleeping beside you on the bed - Heiwajima Shizuo is it? - now a marked possession of the opposition by which I have come to belong.

We are of a similar curse now, here, let me show you the marks on my backhands, though the fear you suddenly show me is entirely unnecessary. I will not take him from you. I'm _not_ Seishirou. I do not execute my rights as an assassin as I prefer to be at peace, no matter how the Sakura rustled at the back of my head, craving for blood, for murder, for sacrifice…

_'Then tell me what happened,'_ I see the charm of your intellect, and it amuses me how fast you have gotten accustomed to mental talk, not an empath or telepath but adept at this skill nonetheless.

So let me explain then. I do owe you that. Close your eyes, that's it, let me lay my hand on them. Let me take you back to those days of my youth…to the story of the tragedy that has marked the last of my days as one who could love…

See I met the man named Seishirou Sakurazuka when I was sixteen. I fell in love with him. But he had betrayed me when he killed my sister who all but offered herself in my stead._ I killed him._ I took his life the same way he did my beloved before I took his place. I became the Sakurazukamori. But now, although it and been ages since I had buried him to rest, he has once more come back as a ghost, a being who torments me for desires that my heart guiltily harbours…

You have figured it, I see, and you frown at me, along with the way your eyes glint with a sudden realisation as you piece together what I have fed your mind so far.

Yes, that is right, what you have just thought…you could say it is all my doing, how the man I love finds himself returning to this plane over and over. From beyond the grave he seeks me out, to call upon me with games so I may come to him…though perhaps, this will be the last.

At that you look up at me. "What guarantees do I have?" you ask, somehow unsure.

I don't blame you. I myself can't give proof to these things as it seems to happen all over again every single time. But I am certain that I will want to prevent it for your sake, for your cause. Because when I look at you and the other with you, I see something utterly perfect, an emotion so complete, a feeling which I have lost since it was ripped from me, as the hearts Seishirou had ripped out. And because I want to give you the chance…that chance I _never_ truly had.

Do you understand now, Mr. Informant? I will take care of it so fear no more. Love your dearest as you always have, and tell him often how you feel. And for all else that had happened, my sincerest of apologies, because you had been caught in its wake and were not spared. I will burn forever in hell for these mistakes, so let it burden me, not you…

* * *

It was morning.

Orihara Izaya found himself unable to move his hand from where he had rested it upon his sleeping lover, possessive of the moment, but fine, seeing that the Onmyoji, Subaru-kun, has not yet left, but did move to do so after a while, smiling as he turned to go a few minutes proceeding the last words that had passed between them. The last apologies.

Of course the visitor was aware how the two had shared a bed for the first time last night, Ikebukuro's monster allowing himself to be topped surprisingly, letting the other take him into the heady throes of ecstasy, Izaya proving to be far more skilled than he could imagine. And it had been a significant affair, the two of them exchanging their promises of love as the final push of pleasure sent them over the edge, to tumble into bliss and into each other's arms, kisses melting the memory of what they had gone through into oblivion.

They had officially become a couple last night, which left Subaru quite satisfied. He was happy that they could be happy, and wanted to leave them simply at that.

"Farewell Izaya-kun."

"Wait," the Informant stopped him halfway leaving, but not even going through the effort of standing from the spot where he sat up on the bed, eyeing this unexpected visitor still with suspicion, sitting between him and the sleeping one. "There's something I need to ask."

"What's that?" returned the Onmyoji, obliging the request.

"I'm just curious to know. Just for the heck of it since you're still here.

"How come Seishirou returns to Ikebukuro when he does? What's the history behind that?"

Subaru paused. Oh yeah. He didn't show him this, did he? He smiled. "Ikebukuro was actually where we met…at the station. He had been a resident vet in Shinjuku.

"This was his home."

It was also _his_ home, Tokyo, but this need not be said. Anyway, Izaya had taken note of it already, Subaru reading that he was interested to dig through and find out more about this persona's myth, doubting not that he will learn it all as he was notorious of doing, but cautioned the other nonetheless.

He might disrupt the other lives that had previously been involved in those incidents similar to this, the worse being Izaya meeting Yohji-kun, but then what could happen? Still, it was always so easy to fall prey to the allure of their story, the story that often ended in cataclysm. Maybe he should just make them forget? A simple spell to make it all disappear.

But then the marks Seishirou had left could not be erased completely. The stigma will remain. So the current status of things might as well be for the best.

"He will not come back again, will he?"

Subaru paused again, slowly breaking into a smile as the other doubted his own question, turning away, embarrassed for letting a feeling as insignificant as fear infect him. But he was indeed scared. He had been terribly scared, knowing well how he could lose Shizuo to beings as terrible as Seishirou…

"Maybe," replied the robed Onmyoji. "But then it might not be for a while. A _very long_ while. Yet I did say I will prevent it as much as I could."

Subaru watched Izaya's expression change from subtle discord to some manner of pain, as if he had been stabbed with worry. His fingers reached to trace the outline of the star Shizuo was marked with, at the base of his nape where his shoulders met the spine. Then he broke down, unusually frightened, falling to first kiss the mark before laying a cheek on that back.

So there were no guarantees still? This might happen again? And what if the next time Seishirou caught them both, he succeeded, the other not there to save them? What then?

_'I don't want to lose mine as you had lost yours, Subaru-kun.'_

The Onmyoji understood.

As a final act of comfort, he stepped back into the spacious room, reached his graceful hand to cast a spell on them both, his blessing of peace and respite.

"How about you, will _you_ be back?" Izaya just had to ask, before his eyes could take no more and fell into slumber. His body was already heavy, mind becoming blind with the lull of unconsciousness.

"I _will_ be back," he heard the other promise. Somehow, in a childish sense, that was enough, and he closed his eyes completely to dream.

But he had not heard Subaru say more to this effect, before the fourteenth star disappeared into what was already a glorious day…

"I give you my word. I _shall_ set things _right_…

"Seishirou…"


End file.
